The Shield of Warriors
by Spandauballet91
Summary: The Shield wake up and realise they're not quite 'home' any more. Thrown into a medieval fantasy world the Shield have one goal and that's to get home. Will they survive the incredible odds? With politics over magic brewing and bandits taking advantage of the stretched civil war effort: it will take more than fancy footwork of the ring to survive.
1. Chapter 1

**This is me testing the waters.  
I have always loved the medieval/fantasy genre and wanted to give it a go. Plus I had this dream last night and wanted to put it down. I hope you all enjoy it because I am looking forward to updating it.**

**Spandau.**

* * *

"For the last time! Wake your sorry ass up!" Hands wrapped themselves around Roman's vest and shook his body.

"What? Mmmph, later…" Roman mumbled as he struggled to open his eyes. His head tingled and his body felt like a dead weight against the soft mesh beneath him. The hands shook him again, this time with more force. Roman growled. His mind began to clear and his eyes cracked open like tiny slits. The blinding light above him forced him to close them. He turned his head and groaned.

Wait. Light? Roman cracked his eyes open again and took in the bright surroundings. Green grass with red, yellow and purple wild flowers? His nose tingled from the pollen. A breeze. A breeze?! Roman sat up with a sudden jerk.

The figure that had tried to awaken him let out an oof when his bottom collided with the dew covered grass. Roman looked at the man properly now. Round faced, narrowed eyes and a headful of auburn messy hair. The fallen man muttered incomprehensibly to himself. Roman frowned. He was not sure if he was so happy to see the familiar face.

"I bet this is that bastard Randy's idea," Dean muttered from his place on the floor. He pushed himself up to his feet and wiped the wet patch the grass had left on his behind. He put a hand over his brow and looked out at the horizon. His lips curled in dismay. "I don't even see a road."

Roman stood up next. His head still fuzzy and his vision bleary from the sunlight. He rubbed the back of his head and took in the foreign surroundings. They seemed to be situated in a meadow with birch trees scattered along the outside creating huge forests. The meadow was covered with an array of multi-coloured flowers decorating the green landscape in dotted areas. The air had a sweet smell to it which tingled Roman's nose.

A good few yards ahead of them Roman noticed the small creek of water that ran south until his eyes could see no more. It looked a nice enough place. The kind of place he would have liked to bring his daughter along with a Frisbee. Or a huge dog. This was the kind of place a dog would consider heaven. It was then Roman realised something.

"Where's Seth?"

Dean turned to face his companion. His usual miserable face flashed with concern before he turned back around and looked out to the horizon yet again. Roman frowned, he knew Dean was worried but he had expected more of a reaction than that. But then again: heaven forbid if Dean actually admitted he had a soft spot for the small athlete. It was well known his opinion of Roman was not all that great but he tolerated and even enjoyed Seth's company.

Dean shoved his hands into his pockets. His shoulders slumped as his eyes lazily scanned the surrounding area. Roman felt his heart thump behind his ribcage as he contemplated their situation. They looked as if they were stuck in the middle of the English countryside, with no recollection of how he had gotten there and Seth was missing. Fear began to overtake him.

"You mentioned Randy. Why Randy? What the fuck is going on here?!" Without warning Roman grabbed Dean by the lapels of his hoody and dragged him close. Chest to chest, Roman lifted the other man so their noses pushed against each other's. "If you've drugged me you sonofabitch then I'll tear you a new one!"

Dean's eyes flashed with anger as the unpredictable and slightly mentally deranged man glared into the Samoan's eyes. Out of nowhere, Dean pushed back against Roman who stumbled a few steps thus releasing his hold. They stood steps apart. Dean was slouched as low as a panther who about to pounce. The palm of Dean's hand went to the front of his jacket and stroked the soft material. He muttered, his eyes held firmly on Roman who was braced for whatever Dean was going to give him.

"I ain't gonna stand here and explain myself!" Dean snapped as spit spluttered through his lips. Roman watched as Dean continued to stroke his own chest as if it was some kind of security blanket. "How do I know you're not in on this? Seth would never go for something like this and he ain't here! You bastard, I bet you kidnapped me to gain control of The Shield."

Roman's face set into hard lines and he felt the intense heat of his cheeks flush with rage. He reached to grab Dean's wrist but the other man slapped it away fiercely. Their eyes remained upon each other. Roman curled his hand into a tight fist. The glare Dean was giving Roman was murderous.

"You're ridiculous! If I wanted control of The Shield I would have settled it in the ring!" Roman threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. It was lunacy and Dean was a lunatic as far as Roman was concerned. Roman moved to the outskirts of the forest. It was still within. Eerily still. It only added to the anxious fear that jostled in his stomach.

Behind him he heard Dean let out a shaky breath. Roman turned back and watched as the other man pushed his auburn hair back with his both his hands. He looked shaken, almost distant all of a sudden. For a split second Roman felt bad for his outburst.

"Dean I…"

"Don't bother…" Dean muttered. He joined Roman's side outside of the forest.

Silence lingered amongst the two men as they looked into the mass of trees. They had two options Roman had figured. They either went through the forest or they followed the creek. Roman rubbed at his chin. They had to find a road somehow. A road meant civilisation. Roman turned away from the forest and a disgruntled Dean did the same.

"Make up your mind!"

"I'm thinking! Why don't you make a decision? You're the leader after all." Roman snapped emphasising the sarcasm with the word _'leader'_. Dean shook with silent rage.

"We look for Seth!"

"What? We don't even know if Seth is even here… wherever _here _is…" Roman wiped his brow with his palm. It had suddenly gotten a lot warmer.

"Could you imagine Seth doing anything without us? He's here."

Roman shook his head but chose not to argue with Dean. He sounded so sure of himself and Roman did not need the aggravation his colleague was sure to put up. Roman crossed his arms and let out a small sigh. The creek was more promising. He moved forwards and Dean trailed along behind. They walked single file through the lush meadow. The only noise they made between them was the wet squelch from their boots.

Roman wiped his brow yet again. Dean licked at his lips but made no effort to brush away the sweat which rolled down his face and arms. His hair was beginning to get wet. It was hot. Hotter than it had been when Roman had first woken up. Roman took another step and his boot sunk into the sodden ground. He looked down at his foot. It was completely covered by a puddle of mucky water. He looked up and at Dean. Dean looked at the engulfed foot and scratched his head in confusion.

"It feels like a heat wave but the ground is soaking." Roman lifted his boot from the mud and balanced on his one leg. His huge boot had left a puddle.

"That ain't right man…. Damn I hate the heat." Dean shrugged off his jacket and slung his jacket over his shoulder. He stretched out his arms allowing his muscles of shake off the tightness he had felt when he had first woken up. Dean's bones clicked in satisfaction and he let out a gratified groan. It was at that moment it smacked Roman straight in the face. Roman's face fell and he had to take a step back to compose himself.

"Jeez! Don't you use deodorant?!"

"What?"

"You! You stink!"

"Well it's fucking stupid degrees!" Dean growled.

"Dean why don't…. wait… do you hear that?"

After a deep breath Dean held it in the back of his throat as he strained his ears listening out for what Roman was referring to. Roman narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. His ears tingled. The rustling of leaves on the trees sounded different than it had done early. Before it was part of the ambiance. Now it sounded unnatural. They rustled hurriedly. Dean let go of his breath. The rustling grew closer and hastier.

Pitter pattering echoed throughout the open space followed by soggy splashes and finally huffing, snarling breath. Dean and Roman looked back at each other just as a howl filled the sky. Nervously, both men looked out at the horizon and saw huge black balls of fur with jagged teeth and yellow eyes running towards straight them.

They exchanged one final look between them both before they turned on their heels and ran. The wolves followed closely behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

The once tranquil meadow had taken a dark turn and the two men were running for their lives. Behind them they could hear the snapping and growling from the wolves that chased them. From what little Roman had seen (before he had ran for his life) they were huge. Bigger than any wolf he had seen before. Their fur was pitch black and their eyes glowed a vibrant level. A scary contrast of colour which added terror that was the white, jagged teeth in their mouth. Teeth? More like daggers! Roman thought as he sprinted through the grass.

Behind him Roman could hear Dean racing after him. Dean was in good shape but he was a different shape to his companion. Whereas Roman was trained for NFL and well proportioned, Dean was bulky with a twenty-a-day cigarette habit. He could hear Dean beginning to pant. It melded with the wolves own noises which spurred Roman on.

His legs burned and his lower legs were drenched from the splashing mud from the ground. He did not know where they were going but it had to be away from the wolves. A head of them was the forest. The huge forest which encircled the meadow they had found themselves in. Roman forced his head round to see how Dean was doing. Dean had lost his hoodie during the run and his face resembled that of a cherry tomato. He looked ready to sit down but his adrenaline stopped him. Roman could relate.

Just then a wolf was on Dean's heels and its pointed teeth glistened in the sunlight. Dean yelled but pressed on. He bent over so his head and body could cut through the air which managed to help move him away from the beasts chomping jaws.

Roman gritted his teeth and ran straight for the unwelcoming forest. Immediately he felt a difference in ground when his feet touched the woodland floor. Whereas the meadow had been sodden, the forest was firm and dry. If his feet had not been so slippery from the meadow he might have been able to run faster but as it was: he maintained his current speed. Dean yelled again. The wolf was back on his heels.

"Kick it!" Roman screamed.

"Are you insane?! I'll fucking trip!" Dean cried. The wolf snarled and snapped its terrifying jaws at the meaty ankle of the fleeing man. Dean let out a shrill scream which echoed throughout the woodlands. His ankle gave out under the pain and the wolf's strength and soon he was rolling through the dirt. The wolves stopped their chase. Their eyes trained on the downed man and his bloodied ankle. Saliva dangled from their mangled muzzles.

Roman skidded to a stop and turned to the scene. Three wolves. Three wolves which were bigger than St. Bernard dog were leering over his partner. Dean's eyes were wide with terror and his mouth hung open as he panted for breath. They circled him as a unit. Their teeth snapped in warning when Dean so much as made a murmur.

"Get the hell away from him!" Roman yelled from his spot. He grabbed what he could which was nearby: a small rock no bigger than a pen lid and flung it at one of the beasts. The rock flew past the wolf but landed with a thud against the tree behind them. The wolves' heads picked up and their attention turned to the unfamiliar noise.

Roman made a motion to move but stopped when one of the wolf's head spurted a mass amount of blood. It dropped to the floor, kicked its legs a few times before it went completely limp. Dean's eyes were still wide like saucers but his face was now sprayed with a line of wolf blood. The remaining wolves howled into the air but were cut short when their heads always sprayed crimson through their heads. They dropped to the floor.

"Oh… my…. God…." Dean stammered from his place on the floor surrounded by dead dogs. Roman looked at one of the fallen wolves and noticed a long, thin stick protruding through its head. An arrow. It had been shot with an arrow. Men shot arrows. Roman raised his arms into the air and stepped closer to the wounded Dean.

"Don't shoot…" Roman called into the trees. Dean lifted his head and looked up into them as well. All was quiet and nothing stood out to them in terms of sight. The Samoan got to his knees then carefully pulled Dean's trouser leg up over his ankle so it turned at the kneecap. Dean hissed, his eyes shut tight in pain.

"Holy shit it bit me… it bit me…" Dean said through panted breath as Roman looked at the ankle. The wolf had indeed taken a good bite from his friend but not enough to reveal bone. His dark eyes met Dean's blue ones.

"I need to take off your shoe and sock but it's going to hurt."

"More of them…" an unfamiliar voice drawled behind them. Roman and Dean froze in their spot. Roman could have kicked himself for not figuring the archers would have appeared sooner rather than later. "In funny clothes."

From out of the trees appeared a small army of men. The man who had spoken was a well-muscled man with arms like tree trunks and a chest built to match. His face was covered by a scraggily brown beard which was patched with grey. He was Caucasian but his accent was like nothing Roman had ever heard before. The man spoke good English but his accent was rough and if Roman had to squint and pick one accent: he would have said Russian.

The man was in some kind of armour. It looked to be some kind of fur and the brown colour made Roman wonder if it was bear or wolf. The wolf which laid at their feet looked as if their fur could protect them from some damage. Perhaps not an arrow to the head though; Roman thought timidly when he glanced at the dead creatures for again before his eyes reverted back to the strange man. At his side was a sheathed sword. Roman heard himself swallow.

The small army behind him all looked very similar as if they were in uniform. It was similar looking armour although they lacked the whole lot. Whereas the frontman had gauntlets and a helmet, his rag-tag team did not. Furthermore, none of them had a sword. In fact, they all had their bows drawn and their arrows aimed for the two wrestlers. Roman's throat had gotten too dry to even gulp again.

"State your name." The bearded man demanded from the front of his merry-men. Despite his soft features beneath signs of age, Roman knew this was not a man to ask twice. But if the man was not armed… that was a different matter.

"My name's Roman and this is Dean." Roman looked at the bloodied ankle when Dean hissed in pain. "He needs help. A wolf bit him."

The bearded man nodded his head, stepped to his side and waved an arm into the air. Within seconds a petite boy ran through the crowd of men and in front of him. He was different to the other man in the minor army. He looked no older than sixteen and his hair was as white as freshly dropped snow. He was lean and a good few inches in height off a normal sized man. His skin was also pale but a deep blue tattoo which ran down from his eye and down in his cheek in some kind of elaborate design stood out most of all. It reminded Roman somewhat of his own tattoo. The pale skinned youth bowed his head at the bearded individual.

"Master." He greeted. Roman tilted his head in amazement when he saw the pointed tips which protruded through the white hair. The young lad lifted his head back up and the emerald eyes sparkled in the sun. It had to be a birth deformity, he had to be a product of incest. Roman looked down at Dean. Dean was too enraptured with his ankle to pay attention to the youthful boy.

"See that _Dean_ receives medical attention when we return to camp."

"You're taking us back to your camp?" Roman asked carefully. The archers had not lowered their bows.

"Can hardly leave you here, can I?"

"Seth… you said a-another one…" Dean managed through a pained groan at the bearded man. The man scrunched up his nose and nodded his head.

"That was his name. Apparently he came from the sky," he snorted with laughter. "From the look of his hair I'd say he's mad from whatever he dabbles in. It ain't my place to ask your poison and to be quite frank I don't care. You'll come back to camp with us and we'll sort ya out in exchange for a favour."

Roman felt his stomach knot at the word _favour_. Two men, both stocky in weight and just as tall as Roman himself, stepped out of the crowd. On their back were their bows they had slung over. Neither man were dressed like their leader who was kitted in full armour. The two men wore tan, shredded rags as trousers despite the fur armour which covered their torso. One even had a headband tied around his head.

They stepped either side of Dean and picked him up between them. Dean hung limply from them with arms wrapped around their shoulders. His injured foot hovered whereas his good foot touched the ground. The archer army lowered their weapons at long last and formed a path like Moses to the red sea for them to walk through. Roman felt his heart sink. At least Seth somewhere and Dean was going to get help. The favour though. That and a million of questions he wanted to ask swam around in his head as they walked onwards and through the forest.

* * *

The march had not been long nor had it been tiring but the quietness had been unbearable. Every time Roman had tried to ask a question to one of the men that passed by he received stony silence. So far the only people he had heard talk had been the pale skinned youth and the hairy leader. It unnerved him.

Through the trees as he looked on was a welcoming sight. Over thick hedges and bushes were the tops of what looked like tents. Brown, furry creations which were propped up using some of the birch woodland all around them. Near the tip of the tents was thick, black smoke followed by the lingering smell of pork. All of the running from the wolves had made Roman forget just how long ago he had eaten but the smell reminded him. His stomach growled.

They pushed through the hedges and entered a large campsite. The tents were scattered throughout the dried dirt along with numerous camp fires. Men tended to the fires on their knees, adding more firewood whilst others added vegetables to huge pots which dangled over the flames. To Roman's far right, he saw a hog roast being turned over an open flame. A youth, very similar in appearance to the one in their party was lathering the rotating pig in some kind of sticky substance. Further right of that was the creek Roman had seen in the open meadow. A tent was on the water bank and next to that stood a fish rack which dangled numerous salmon. Some still flapped for dear life from their spiked prison.

"Andell!" The leader yelled. The young man who was coating the hog turned, placed down his utensils and literally ran to the man who had called him. His head bowed like his twin. "The crazy one, he sleeps?"

"No sir." Andell replied with a shake of his head. The other difference between the two pale men was Andell's tattoo was the colour green and a long braid hung from his hair. "He wished to study our maps. I allowed him into your tent under the supervision of Grog."

The leader lowered his eyes at Andell but said nothing more. He turned to Roman then motioned his hand as he walked to his tent. Andell looked over Roman with wide eyes with a spark of childish innocence. Roman offered a forced smile back before he followed after the leader.

"Your crazy friend is interesting. I recommended Erval mixing him some elixir but he refused." They stopped outside of the tent. The leader turned so he and Roman stood directly face-to-face. "_You _are interesting too."

"I could say the same to you. I don't even know _your _name."

The leader smirked and his eyes twinkled. "You don't know me? I find that hard to believe. Anvil Quintilius: the greatest Hunter to ever live. I have hunted all sorts of beasts from those living to that of undead. Mammoths, tigers, boars, giants and even the great ogre of Cyndorn's cave! I am the best at what I do."

Roman blinked. _Ask a name and get a CV; _he thought wearily as he stared at the overtly enthusiastic hunter that had finished his song and dance. Anvil's smile weakened and his eyes became stern once again. He stood up straight before he nodded at the entrance to the tent. The tent door was made up of some kind of large cat. Its head was still attached and its two walrus like teeth scraped the floor.

Orgres, undead, sabre-toothed tigers and elves. Either Ashton Krutcher had gone all out on The Shield or Roman was in some kind of dream he could not wake up from. Perhaps a coma? It could be possible he had taken a nasty bump on the head during a match. Regardless, Roman shook the thoughts from his mind then pushed the makeshift cat door to reveal the confines of the largest tent.

The inside of the tent was like an oven and the heat hit Roman instantly. His already sweaty brow pooled up more until long beads of sweat dripped down his temples. In the centre of the tent was a wooden table which was covered in maps, green bottles and an assortment of fruit. On the floor all around was more paper, more maps to be exact. Every inch of the floor was covered in a map. Behind Roman, he could imagine how Anvil's eyes must have widened at the sight of his accommodation being messed up.

There on the floor however was the youngest member of their group. Seth Rollins was sat cross-legged on the floor amongst the paper deeply invested in a map in front of him. His dual coloured hair was a mess so both colours intermingled and it looked as if he had dipped in the river. He was semi-naked except for his ripped cargo pants from his Shield uniform. Above him like a great tower was a large hairy fellow with a beard down to his chest and long hair to his bottom. His expression was vacant.

"Seth…?" Roman asked cautiously. He entered the tent but the young man made no indication he had noticed his friend. His eyes were glued to the map. His finger trailed a dark line, most probably a road. Roman neared his friend's side.

"Seth? Are you okay?"

"Fine. Just trying to figure out where the border is…" he muttered as his fingers travelled down the line.

Roman blinked. "Oh… that's cool."

"I think we're somewhere over here and that." Seth stopped suddenly. His head shot up and his eyes lit up. "Roman!"

Seth jumped to his feet and dived at his friend. His arms wrapped around Roman's huge frame and held him close. Roman stood there awkwardly not returning the hug. Anvil and Grog were still there in the tent and watching. The hug lasted for a good ten seconds until Roman stepped back and pushed his friend out of arms reach. That was enough of that.

"It's good to see you too. Where have you been? Dean was-"

"Dean's here!? Where is he?"

Roman held out his hand and gently pushed Seth back into his spot when it looked like the nimble footed man was about to leap out. His huge brown eyes met Roman's. He could see why Seth was constantly referred to as the crazy one. Something was not quite right about him.

"He was attacked by a wolf but he'll be fine. What happened to you?"

"Your friend got caught in one of our traps." Anvil declared after he had entered the tent. His eyes skimmed the mess in his tent. "Either he was very hungry or very stupid."

Seth scrunched up his face. "I saw a plate of fruit on the floor and wondered where it came from. When I went to pick it up I got caught in some kind of ankle rope trap thing and found myself upside down being prodded with swords."

Anvil rolled his eyes. "Of course you did."

"Roman! You won't believe what I have been looking into it." He scooped up the map he had been reading. "We're not on Earth anymore."


	3. Chapter 3

"Seth. I've heard you say some stupid things in your time but that really takes the cake."

The childlike excitement that made Seth's eyes glisten and his smile so big vanished within a second. He held the ragged old map between his fingers. He glanced between the parchment and his teammate at a loss for words. Behind the unkempt mess of Seth's beard Roman could see his cheeks twitch along with his bottom lip. Roman crossed his arms. He had touched a nerve.

"You've not even listened to my theory." Seth said at long last. He flicked the map upwards and slammed the paper into Roman's chest. Roman snatched it from his grip not caring if he ripped or crumbled the delicate piece of paper.

"I don't need to. I don't need to be told that's impossible on almost every level." Roman glanced down at the map. It was hand-drawn with what looked like coal. The outline of the island edges had smudged from numerous fingerprints. The island resembled Australia. Roman shook his head.

"Impossible on every level?" Seth rolled his eyes. "Sorry I forgot. I very often get captured by guys in medieval armour and my meals are always cooked by elves."

Roman knew Seth had a point but he could not bring himself to say it. Another world which was not Earth? It was far-fetched. Who would have supplied the space ship? It had to be a concussion. Anvil walked into Roman's view. The bearded Hunter lifted his chin and looked directly at the two strangers in his tent.

"I told you your friend is under the influence of whatever he dabbles in." Anvil whispered to Roman despite Seth standing right there. Seth narrowed his eyes. "It has affected his hair and is only a matter of time it spreads to his heart."

"He's not on drugs." Roman rumbled.

Anvil's thin lips twisted into a smile. "Drugs? Oh no. He's not chewing on Dragonbell. If he's got his teeth into anything then it's the _dark stuff_."

Roman and Seth looked between each other. The dark stuff? Roman had no idea what that meant and from the look of trepidation on Seth's face; he was probably the same. Roman wiped his sweaty brow for the umpteenth time. It amazed him how Anvil stood there in his full armour without as much as a bead of perspiration.

Seth snatched the map from Roman's sweaty hands. "We're here for a reason and I'm not chewing on anything except truth! We are on a different planet and we need to find out why."

Anvil barked with laugh. His stomach heaved underneath his thick fur armour as his legs stumbled for balance. Seth's bottom lip stuck out unimpressed.

"Planets?! What are planets?! Your friend here might be chewing Dragonbell after all." He wiped a stray tear from his eye. "Regardless of your friends eaten mind, I brought you here for a reason."

"The favour." Roman stated.

"Quite. Very simple and no doubt beneficial to you."

"I'll judge that when you tell me what it is."

"A true warrior but one without a sword. It saddens me. Waste." Anvil scratched his chin through his beard. "I have a package that needs delivering."

Roman rolled his eyes. "You want us to deliver a package?"

"Is that not what I just said? You might be crazy but your friend is deaf." Anvil clapped Seth on the back which made him stumble forward. "I saved your life and decided not to hand in your tainted friend. As we speak, my men are healing your other friend's ankle. All I ask if you deliver this package to a contact in Palgrave."

"What's the package"? Seth asked.

"Does it matter?" Anvil asked with a shrug. "Do this favour for me and we're even. Continue on your merry way. Palgrave is the trade capital so you'll have plenty of opportunities to suit your nature."

Roman fixed Anvil with a cool stare. "Where are we?"

"In the Palgavian Forest of course. Palgrave is but a mere half-a-day away."

"We can keep a map? We're new here."

"Keep it."

"Fine. We'll deliver your package but you never saw us. We don't exist." Seth's eyes shot to Roman as he spoke.

"Wait? Roman…"

Roman held up his hand to silence Seth who much to his credit closed his mouth. Anvil furrowed his brow at the two strange men in his quarters. The same sly smile clung to his face. He nodded his head slowly completely intrigued.

"You are spectres, boys. I never saw a thing."

* * *

"Get your creepy little fingers off of me!" Dean yelled furiously at the two young, pointed ear boys drew nearer to his naked ankle. Roman had to smile despite himself. The sight was one to behold. Dean was lying on his back on some kind of wooden bed which was covered in straw. His face was red and his lips were covered with spittle no doubt from his yelling.

The elven youngsters recoiled at his aggression. They look between each other as they held whatever purple herbs they had tightly. No doubt Dean had smacked the unknown herbs from their hands once before. Dean sat up, swung his legs over the straw bed and was just about to put his feet on the ground when one of the elves pushed him onto his back.

"He must not understand common!" The elf who pushed Dean down yelled desperately to his companion. "But he speaks it well."

"Maybe he is dumb?" The second added.

"Stubborn." Roman grumbled.

"There you are! You left me to get manhandled by these freaky little elves!" Dean snapped. He hissed at an elf who held him down. The elf recoiled instantly.

"Trust Dean to be friendly with the locals." Seth added with a smile.

"Oh look who decided to turn up. Where the hell have you been?" Dean snarled. He glared at the two elves but sat back on the bed. He lifted his wounded ankle back onto the straw bed.

"Well it's nice to see you too." Seth muttered.

"Idiot. Where are your clothes? Urgh." Dean pointed to his ankle. "Ain't you supposed to be fixing this?"

Roman shook his head. At least Dean was happy and back to his normal self regardless of his bloody ankle.

"Once you're able to walk we're going to a city called Palgrave." Roman declared.

"Palgrave? What the hell is Palgrave?" Dean muttered as he watched the elves under a careful eye. The timid creatures practically shook with fear as they scrunched up purple plants between their small hands. Eventually the sap from the leaves turned the plant into a purple paste. Dean raised his eyebrow.

"It's a city." Roman grumbled. The elves held out their mush covered hands for Dean to see. He said nothing but he did narrow his brow at the small elves. Not wanting to leave it any longer; four hands pressed around the wounded area and began to massage the purple paste into the open wound.

"Ow what…. Oh… that's quite nice." A wide smile spread across Dean's face. He had anticipated a horrible sting like you got from antibacterial gel but this was different. It was cold but soothing. A sigh escaped his lips as his muscles relaxed completely. It felt good. It now felt like a warm bath with lavender which relieved every tense muscle. The pain in his ankle was completely gone. Dean looked up at the sky but only saw Seth's face looking down at him.

"Dean… are you feeling okay?" Seth asked. His voice seemed so far away. Locked in a box and thrown into a gust of wind. Dean chuckled. He reached a hand out and stroked his friend's beard. It was so soft. Like a kitten.

"Great." Roman growled. "The last thing we need is Ambrose tripping on whatever the hell that stuff is."

The elves moved back from the ankle and bowed before Roman. The one who had been with the hunting party during their first encounter with Anvil lifted his head up first.

"His ankle will be completely healed within a few hours. In the meantime, he will feel nothing but tranquillity."

"I missed you Seth," Dean slurred. "You're my best friend Seth."

"Oh brother…." Seth and Roman muttered as Dean giggled playfully. The pupils of Dean's eyes were so enlarged they hid the blue of his eyes. There was no way Dean was going to live this one down when he became his normal angry self. Dean giggled again. Roman smirked; no way at all.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun had started to sink when the two members of The Shield picked up the package from Anvil. The package which had been placed carefully in Roman's hand had been a beige coloured scroll which looked no bigger than a rolled up piece of A4 paper. The scroll looked and felt aged. The flimsy parchment was thin with several tears and dark blotches along its surface like smudged dirty fingerprints. To keep the scroll secure, a small thin place of red cloth had been looped twice and tied around it.

Anvil had handed Roman the scroll with the simple name of "_Nelacar_" before he retreated back into his disordered tent and pulled it closed. Roman looked down at the delicate document he held in his hand and then at Seth. The scroll despite its lightness suddenly felt quite heavy. A burden and another piece of the puzzle the three men had to solve. Roman pushed the scroll into the back pocket of his jeans. They were about ready.

"It might be worth talking to Andell about supplies," said Roman as he walked away from the tent followed by Seth. "It'll be risky going through those woods without food."

"It'll be even risker going through those woods without some kind of defence."

Roman nodded his head in reply but never broke his stride. The camp had become busy as the day grew later and the night ascended. Men in their makeshift armour began to fall in which filled the camp with raucous chortles, clanking metal and best of all: the smell of roasting meat. In almost every direction they looked there were a group of men circled around a rotisserie pig which would be constantly glazed with a thick honey marinade. In almost every man's hand was a metal tanker too which they clanked together almost constantly with a merry cheer. It made Roman uneasy. Most of these men bore some kind of weapon whether it be a bow on his back or a sword at his side. It was a dangerous combination.

Within a few minutes Roman stopped at the base of one of the campfires Anvil had granted them. No pig rotated over its flames and unlike its neighbours it spat no embers. The fire was about out. Small red flames did its best to stay alight over the charred black wood but it was a lost cause. Roman crossed his arms over his chest. The day may have been humid but as the sun sank so did the temperature. Whereas before the air had been humid and hard to breath; the air was now crisp with a slight nip in the air. It was nice. It was one of those nights you could walk down the beach hand-in-hand with your sweetheart. Irrespective, the night had gotten colder which each hour and Roman was not sure the temperature would stop here.

Sat near the fire with his legs pulled up to his chin and a vacant expression on his face was Dean. His leg was completely healed as the elves had said but his 'tranquillity' had taken it's time to wear off. His face was pale and clammy with sweat almost like he had a fever. When Seth had pointed out his friend's condition, one of the elves had said something about sweating out the root after it had completed its job of curing the ailment.

Seth knelt down beside Dean and gave him a gentle shake. Dean blinked once and then twice before he actually looked to the side and at his friend. Dean wiped the sweat from his brow and pushed himself up to his feet.

"Are you fit to travel or do you need more time?" Roman asked when Dean was on his feet. Dean's eyes darted to Roman's form. His nose twitched and his tongue dabbed at the corner of his mouth before it ran all along his bottom lip. He smirked.

"I've been waiting on you. You got the package?" Dean ran his fingers through his sodden hair slow and deliberate. Roman unfolded his arms and pushed his shoulders back. Sometimes Dean knew how to get under his skin and for no good reason. Roman reached into his back pocket and pulled out the scroll. He held it out between them. Dean's blue eyes glistened.

"What's it say?"

Roman shrugged his broad shoulders. "I don't know and I don't care." The scroll went back into Roman's back pocket and then his arms were folded over his chest once again. He felt the weight of Dean's eyes as they studied him. The curiosity was prevalent on Dean's pale features. Although he did not get Dean all of the time, Roman did understand the curiosity. The only thing that kept Roman from glancing at the parchment was because it was too delicate and he might have broken it before delivery.

"One day I would love for all three of us to just get along like a big happy family," Seth said out of nowhere with a charismatic smile on his face. He wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders and pulled the slouched figure close to his side. Dean's eyes lingered on Roman for a few more seconds before they gradually moved to Seth's smiling face and then down to his chest.

Dean's eyes elevated up from Seth's chest. His trademark smirk turned into a tight little frown. "Seth… put your damn shirt on. Actually y'know what; put your damn _pants on!_"

A look of realisation swept Seth's features and slowly he removed his arm up and away from his friend. A snort of laughter escaped Roman's sealed lips which made his shoulders shake. He covered his mouth to hide the huge grin. _Like a big happy family_; Roman thought as Seth scurried away to find his discarded clothes.

* * *

"And you're _sure_ Anvil has agreed to this?" Andrell asked hurriedly as he rushed around the tent where the Hunter's left their gear. He hoped his brother would return soon with word from their master which confirmed or denied the demand.

"Sure he has! In fact, Anvil said _not_ along can we have a pick from this arsenal but he even asked if we'd like some of that pork and bread for our journey." Seth, who was now fully clothed in his Shield gear, declared as his teammates wandered the tent and searched through old chests. Andrell bit his lower lip and watched helplessly as Roman handled a small iron dagger which was used to skin smaller prey.

"He has said nothing to me!" Andrell demurred with a stamp of his foot. The dagger dropped to the fall with a clang. The Somoan had his eyes on something even more beautiful. Andrell's jaw dropped when he realised. "No! Out of the question! No!"

Roman turned around with an innocent smile in place for the petulant elf. The flawless yet pale skin of Andrell was flushed with red. For a moment Roman considered his actions. Although small and in servitude, Roman did not fully know what the little guy was capable of. He could have had more of that 'tranquil' goop ready to rub on his leg and knock him out for a few hours. Just then, Dean strolled to Roman's side. He was still slouching but on his face was a devious look.

"Hey Roman, I think that would look good on you."

"I was thinking the exact same thing," replied Roman boldly. He turned back to his treasure on the wooden display stand. It was huge, perhaps the biggest he had ever seen. It was a sword only the most powerful knight could wield. The iron tip of the sword was sharp and thin but the further down the blade, the wider the iron became until it reached the guard. The guard itself was curved downwards like a flick and under it was the thick, wooden grip which was protected in worn brown leather. Blood stained the blades fuller and blood had congealed under the small nook which attached the guard to the leather grip. It was intimidating yet welcoming to the large Wrestler.

"That is the master's sword! He takes it on his best hunts… he would never allow you to take it." Andrell badgered desperately. Roman glanced at the annoying pest and shook his head. Without a word, Roman wrapped one hand around the sword's grip. The grip was huge and only one hand covered half of it. He grabbed the remaining grip with his other hand and pulled the huge weapon away from the wall.

The veins in Roman's arms pulsated as he tried to keep the sword mid-air and balanced. It was heavy, heavier than it looked and it had looked pretty heavy. Dean stepped back to where Seth and Andrell stood.

"Suits you Romie," Seth sniggered. Roman gently moved the sword up and down, swinging it softly through the air to get a real feel for it. The sword would take some getting used to but he would have it. Roman grabbed the harness for the sword which hung next to its display stand.

"You don't even know how to use it! Oh my… I will have my ears clipped for this." The elf continued as it began its pacing up and down the tent once again. Seth shook his head and smiled at Dean who shrugged his shoulders cartoonishly in response.

"No more games boys, let's pick what we need before Anvil does get back and demands this stuff back." Roman placed the sword down on the table and got to work attaching the leather harness for the great sword to his back.

Seth scooped up the dagger Roman had dropped to the floor. "This will do me. I don't feel like a huge sword will help me."

"Rome's an over compensator, Seth." Dean said with a shrug. Roman shook his head but did not reply; going to Dean's level at this point could be hazardous to all their health if they did not get out of camp fast. Dean grabbed the hilt of a regular iron sword. It looked identical to Roman's except it was half the size and Dean could pick it up with one hand.

"You don't think we've crossed a line by stealing his stuff?" Seth asked innocently as he pushed the dagger into a small harness his had tied around his waist like a belt. "He _was_ nice to us."

"The bastard trapped you, drugged me and forced us to deliver a stupid message. He owes us three pieces of metal." Dean stood with his legs apart pushed the blade into the air. "I have the power!"

"I'm starting to wonder if giving you a sword was a good idea…" Roman muttered.

"You're just jealous… oh hey!" Dean lowered the sword and looked through the curved down guard of his sword. "Sword of Omens! Give me sight beyond sight…"

"Will you cut it out?!" Roman snapped.

Roman pushed his sword awkwardly into the harness on his back and shook his head for the numerous times that day at Dean Ambrose. The auburn haired man had a bit more colour in his cheeks which was promising for his health but dangerous for Roman's patience. He saw Dean's mouth open and no doubt another annoying sword joke about to come out but he shut it promptly. Roman frowned. The earth beneath their feet began to rumble softly.

"Guys…" Seth lifted one foot off the ground. "Do you hear that sound?"

Roman strained his ears and sure enough there was a sound. It was a heavy sound which grew louder and faster as the seconds passed. Soon enough, the familiar sound of clanking metal came into hearing distance. Roman narrowed his eyes. The elf must have been returning but it sounded like he was not alone.

"We should have asked…" Seth murmured.

Roman shook his head. "We're The Shield. We take what we need when we need it."

"Is that what you're going to say to the guy that _saved_ our lives from wolves?" Dean asked impishly. His tongue rolled out of his mouth like it usually did when he was excited. Roman glared. "Hey man it's cool, I mean… I'm down for binging and purging. Oh! Why don't we hold the elf hostage? Spice things up!"

Andrell turned a whole new shade of white. "E-excuse me?"

Roman growled. "Can't you take anything seriously? We'll explain what we're doing and then we'll leave."

"Or we could run? That way we're sure to leave the forest armed." Seth suggested.

"I run from nothing…" Roman muttered.

"I seem to remember you running from wolves," Dean said with a grin.

The footsteps grew louder and the earth beneath their feet vibrated more strongly. Dean grabbed a harness from one of the chests and jogged to the back of the tent. He took the sword with both hands and forced the sharp tip into the cloth of the tent. It pierced easily and with a mighty swoop, Dean had cut a hole big enough for them to pass through.

"I might be crazy but even I know fighting a pack of medieval hunters is lunacy!" Dean yelled. He had not even bothered to attach his harness to his waist before he hopped through the hole in the tent.

"Roman…" Seth tried. "He's right."

Whatever pride Roman may have had was swiftly pushed aside. He nodded his head in compliance and followed Seth across the tent and through the torn hole. Amazingly, Dean had waited for them on the other side. Seth whipped Anvil's map from one of the many pockets on his jacket.

"I don't know where we are on the map but I suggest we run the way we came in. Eventually, we'll get to the forest and we'll try to find a spot to identify ourselves." Seth said as his eyes danced over the map frantically. In the tent, Andrell was yelling. The men were in the tent.

"We gotta go!" Dean hissed as he bounced on his heels.

"We don't have any food… if we run-" Seth was cut off when an arrow flew in-between the three men and hit a tree behind them. In sync, their heads all spun to the hole in the tent where one of the hunters stood, his bow ready and his hand rustling for another arrow in his pack.

"They ain't asking for it back." Dean raised his boot and swung it at the hunter's exposed head. His foot cracked straight across as quick as lightening and the hunter fell limp into a mixture of the grass and the tent's cloth. "Run."

The three turned tail and ran. Behind them they could hear the furious shouts from their previous hosts as they ran head long into the Palgavian Forest. Neither one of them had any idea of the adventure they had just set out on.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi everyone,

I am very sorry about the very late update. This story has been hard for me to write not just because of my university studies but because of my inability to create filler chapters. I have beautifully detailed ideas for chapters but for me to get to them; I need to get the characters there. Very hard haha.

My exams will be finished middle of this month so I should be updating my stories more regularly after that until I start university again.

Sorry for the delay and all feedback is welcome and read - both critical and positive.

* * *

The tension that loomed between the three men was overwhelming to the point it was uncomfortable. Roman had taken the lead, stomping forward through the pitch black forest with the weight of the sword on his back reminding him this was reality. A tragic reality. A dream he had yet to wake up from. Behind him he could hear the footsteps of the others and the odd mumble from Ambrose; it was the only confirmation Roman had that they were following him.

Above them was only darkness. The condensed forest blocked out the starlight like a bandage on a wound. Roman sighed. He could not see his hand in front of his face but he assumed he was on a path of some kind. They had not walked into a tree for the past five minutes at any rate. Behind him he could hear what the other two were thinking. Should they have taken the weapons and made an enemy so soon? Roman had expected a telling off but not a full frontal attack from the man who _had _saved their lives. The place they were in was strange and un-relentless; the boys would not be caught out again if Roman had any say in the matter.

They had barely spoken to each other since they had escaped the camp. Dean had not teased or made some kind of 'funny' remark about their predictable but just muttered aimlessly to himself. Roman had stopped listening but he could hear him back there. He had stopped listening to the lunatic long ago. Seth, well Seth had been unusually quiet unlike his unusual talkative self. It unnerved Roman. When Seth kept his mouth shut there tended to be more troubling the young man than normally meets the eye.

They continued on foot for another five more minutes before Roman could stop stand it any longer. "Hold up," he grunted just before he stopped moving. The others behind him must have stopped too as there was no domino effect against his back. Roman turned around to face another wall of darkness.

"What are we doing guys?" Asked Roman.

"What do you mean what are we doing? I thought we were going to a city!" Dean snarled a little further away than Roman had figured him. He squinted his eyes into the darkness to try and make out the outlines of his friends. It was near impossible and frustrating.

"I don't even know if this is the right way to _Palgrave_." Roman growled. He reached out and placed his open hand on the figure in front of him. He needed to feel someone was there. He had to get his bearings. Cloth, his hand laid on cloth. A shoulder or chest? Roman licked his lips. "It's so dark I can't see your faces let alone any map."

"You've been leading us deeper and deeper into the woods and you have no idea where they go?" Dean's voice was louder and more aggressive. Roman pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

"Dean, can we hold off on the accusations and get our bearings?"

"No. No way man. You're leading us into a death trap."

"_I'm leading us into a death trap?_ That's rich. Hey, how about you lead us to civilization then Mr. Perfect and see where you take us without a fucking map and no light."

Dean paused. "Yeah well… I wouldn't have stolen weapons in the first place and – "

"And there it is!" Roman yelled up into the trees suddenly. "There it is! I have been waiting for that all fucking night._ MY FAULT._"

"Yeah well it is your fault!" An equally as irritated Dean Ambrose yelled back suddenly on the defensive. From the sudden pitter-patter of feet on leaves, Roman assumed the younger man was hopping up and down in frustration.

"I didn't see you stopping me at the fucking time and you sure as hell took something you shouldn't have!"

"Hey! Hey!" The more nasally voice of Seth Rollins' yelled between Roman and Dean. Roman felt a hand being gently pushed into his chest and assumed it was Seth. After all, Dean would have wound the cotton in his fist and drooled all over his face or something. "Enough. There's gonna be no blaming and there sure as hell ain't gonna be no yelling. In case you forgot guys, there are things in these woods I'd rather not hear us so just zip it."

A brief silence went between the three men until Dean broke it with a raspy, "He started it."

"Yeah well I'm finishing it. Jesus you two… we're lost in the middle of a fucking black hole and you two are at each other's throats. Again!"

Seth's hand swiftly removed itself from Roman's chest and what followed soon after sounded like he was throwing his arms up in frustration. Roman sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew his friend had a point. He knew Dean had a point too.

"I get it… I fucked up with stealing the weapons. I get that… I just wanted us prepared for whatever the hell is out here. I didn't think and I sure as hell didn't think Anvil would send a small army after us because of a few swords."

Roman heard Dean scoff but made no retaliation against it. He had said his peace and was happy to leave it like that. Roman just wished he could see the two men. He wanted the reassurance of Seth's eyes and the stubborn but loyal glare from Dean despite the tension. He then realised the arms Roman had crossed over his chest were an embrace. He shuddered at his own uncertainty. Wherever they were it had gotten to the big man.

A gust of wind blew past their still forms which made the leaves on the trees bustle in haste. The once humid temperature they had experienced that morning was gone and replaced with a biting cold breeze. Seth's hand tapped Roman's chest.

"We need to get to Palgrave. Anvil asked us to deliver that message and although we're not in his good books I imagine the guy who wants that scroll will pay us for our service." Seth laughed. "Plus, I doubt Anvil could contact Palgrave before us at this rate unless he has a cell phone."

"Depends if we're going in the right direction…" Dean muttered.

Seth let out a thoughtful sigh. "I hate to admit it but your pessimism isn't too far off the mark. We need to regroup and check out the map. Not that we'd know where the hell we are on the map but…"

"Optimism all around boys," Roman grumbled.

"Well it can't get much worse than this! The only way it could be worse is if Dean's canine friends came back for a nibble on his other leg."

Perhaps it was normal or just pure bad luck on their part because as soon as the words came out of Seth's mouth a furious crackle echoed through the night sky. The breeze picked up again, throwing Roman's hair over his shoulder and forcing him to stand his ground. Another crack of thunder and the forest lit up brilliantly. Stunned, Roman glanced around the darkened forest again. Fat raindrops fell from the sky smacking his shoulders and head. The sky grumbled. It really did not want them there.

"Well…. That's perfect." Seth muttered as the rain picked up in velocity and hammered down on the three men. The thunder roared for a third time and the forest lit up. This time, Roman had time to look at his friends. Seth's face was pointed towards the sky in shocked curiosity whereas Dean had slunk to the floor in a crouched position covering his head with his hands. The darkness enveloped them yet again. Roman clenched his fist.

"We need to get to some shelter! When the next bit of lightning strikes: look around!" Roman yelled. He had to if he wanted to be heard over rain and rumbling of the storm. They did not have to wait long for the desire effect. Like a sound effect from a horror movie the lightning cracked and Roman looked from left to right as quickly as he could. He saw nothing but more woodland and the path they travelled before them. The darkness returned.

"Shit…" he muttered. The rain had soaked his clothes down to his skin completely. "We need to keep moving!"

"We're in a forest! We're under trees!" Spat a terror stricken Dean Ambrose. Roman raised his eyebrow. Dean was afraid of storms? That was almost too funny he found it hard not to grin. Regardless, there was no point laughing at him now. Not when Roman wanted to get out of the rain before he caught his cold.

"Chill man… as long as you're not wearing any metal you should be fine." Seth tried.

"What about my earring? Or my belt? Should I take my earring out?" Dean rambled and probably could have done some more until he was cut off by another thunderous rumble and another bright light of lightening. Looking at his teammates in that brief light; they were just as soaked as Roman himself.

"This could explain why the ground was moist…" Roman muttered. "It rains all night."

"What?" Seth yelled over the heavy rain.

Roman shook his head, not that his friend could see it anyway. "Nothing! I don't think this storm is going to let up until morning so we need to settle down somewhere! There are wolves in these woods which means caves or something should be around!"

"Have you forgotten caves for wolves tend to be occupied by wolves?" Seth asked.

"No… no I haven't. Have you forgotten we have swords?"

"Can wolves see in the dark?" Dean asked. His voice was closer. it sounded timid yet nearer. He must have moved closer.

"No Dean I don't think they can." Roman lied. He actually had no idea.

"But humans can't see in the dark." Dean continued.

"My eyes are adapting." Another lie from the Samoan.

The area lit up with another bolt of lightning. Dean was closer. He was in between Roman and Seth and still slightly slouched with his fingers entangled within his wet mop of hair. It was almost humbling to see the lunatic afraid of something he physically could not fight. Roman pushed his hair back. They had to keep moving with or without any idea of where they were heading.

"This is what we're going to do. Dean, you grab my wrist and Seth you grab his. We're going to keep moving forward." Roman outreached his arm for Dean to grab.

"I'm not going to hold your hands!" Dean yelled as if Roman had said something obscene about his grandmother.

"Well I can't hear you through this weather and it'll be safer. Stop being a baby and take my goddamn hand."

"You said wrist." Came the childish remark.

"I'll take your hand Roman and Dean you can hold mine!" Seth yelled. His patience had worn out. "We need to get out of these woods otherwise we'll fucking freeze to death and personally I'd rather look gay or childish than dead."

They said no more words. Their hands connected in whatever order they had decided to go in and the members of The Shield pressed on.

* * *

Hours had passed but still the rain continued to pound down mercilessly. They had said nothing to each other. Even as the sky began to transform into the colour of a new bruise and shed some light through the trees; they said nothing. Their boots squelched and their bodies shook from the cold. They were still in the woods. Still lost in the woods but at least with a small amount of light to guard them.

Their order had not changed from how they had connected before. Roman held the hot sweaty hand of Seth Rollins and behind him he held the hand of Dean Ambrose. Their hands had not disconnected once. Not even when light had begun to slink through the trees. Roman looked down miserably at the floor. It had only been a day. An interesting day and a miserable night.

"I'm tired…" Seth muttered. Caught off guard, Roman looked up blankly in the direction he was walking in. The walk then slowed down.

"I'm hungry…" Dean mumbled. The floodgates had opened and the throbbing pain in Roman's feet and legs alongside his hunger hit him at once.

"You guys forgot cold." Roman threw in good naturedly with a forced laugh. It was not returned. "We must be going the wrong way. We have been walking for well over seven hours."

Seth released Roman and Dean's hands then reached into his pocket. He pulled out the map. The folded up drenched piece of parchment which dripped. He opened it. The paper broke away in his fingers. Whatever ink that remained on the document stained his fingers. The floor in the young man's eyes were that of despair. Despair and desperation. Roman felt it too. It panged within his chest with the sudden realisation: The map was gone.

"No… no no no no," Dean shook his head fiercely. His eyes were wide and his left cheek twitched as he watched whatever was left of the parchment drift to the floor. He dropped to his knees like a ton of bricks and reached into the dirt, grabbing a handful. "You broke the map! You broke the map and now we're gonna die."

"Calm down Dean." Seth said firmly.

Dean threw the handful of mud to his left and buried his fingers deeper into the mound. Roman shook his head.

"So what? You're going to dig us back home? Get up man and grow a pair."

The manic eyes of Dean Ambrose shot at Roman almost as fast as a bullet comes out of a gun. His blue eyes were clouded and bloodshot from their long journey and dark blue bags decorated under them. His tongue fell from his mouth to the slide. Roman swallowed despite the dryness of his throat and stood at full height. The man had found something he could fight.

Dean pulled his fingers out from the sodden mud and slowly brought himself back up. He stood there, slouched as normal but back to his usual height. His cheek continued to twitch. Roman narrowed his eyes.

"Hey! It was a bad choice of words!" Seth stated already holding his arms out between the two. "We're all scared but breaking down is not going to help!"

Roman smirked. A bad move because before he even realised it Dean had dived on him and the two were rolling through the mud. Roman raised his hands up to his face deflecting the manic blows. Not one to take things lying down, Roman grabbed a handful of Dean's hair and pulled it far back until the furious yell came from him. A quick fist landed on Roman's jaw. A powerful fist collided with Dean's eye. They growled and clawed as they rolled. Seth ran after them.

"Will you two stop fucking fighting?!" He yelled before he reached down and grabbed Dean by the back of his soaked shirt. He pulled the frenzied man close and locked his arms around his chest. "Calm down! Stop fucking baiting him Roman!"

"How the hell am I baiting him?!" Roman roared. He scrambled up from the mud and pointed a finger at the two. "It's him! What the fuck is even going on?! Why the hell are we in this fucking woods travelling to fucking god knows where! I wanna go home!"

"Because I ain't a magician who can magic you home!" Seth yelled back. "Do you think I like this? I mean, it ain't like I've got a girlfriend at home wondering where I am or anything! Just shut up and calm down. That goes for you as well!"

Seth released Dean and the auburn haired man thrust himself forward. He turned around, forming a weak circle so they could all look between each other with ease. Covered in mud and panting, Dean looked ready to go another round but he refrained. Wavering back and forth on his spot giving Roman looks that could have killed. Roman growled.

"Come at me again boy and I'll bust your leg again…"

"I said enough!"

"For a second there I thought you were going to make my job a whole lot easier," an unknown voice sneered.

They turned. Seth's jaw dropped. He would never have thought it more possible but there she was standing right there in front of him with two friends. Her skin was green and her eyes a narrowed yellow which glowed in the dim light. In her hands was a Warhammer that put Roman's great sword to shame. A single jagged tooth protruded from her lip over her upper lip.

"Y-y-you're an orc…" Seth stuttered.

"Half. These boys behind me are full."

To prove a point the two male barbarians growled between themselves each holding threatening looking maces. They were both at least six foot six, her a little over six three. Her muscular arms raised the Warhammer up over her shoulder as if to strike.

"You know the drill. Empty your satchels or raise your sword."

"We don't have satchels…. We don't have any money." Seth stammered.

The half-orc's lips cracked a smile. "Then you better raise your sword pretty boy before I take my payment out of your colourful head."


	6. Chapter 6

Seth's jaw had dropped to the floor and Dean's eyes had widened at the sight of the large 'woman' before them. Her face had not changed. She stood rigid and ready with the huge Warhammer raised high and threatening to come down at any moment. They stood before her in stunned silence. The sheer sight of her had stunned Roman.

She had to be at least six foot three and was built stockier than Chyna from the WWF days. Her ripped muscles bulged and pulsated underneath the weight of the hammer she held high over her head. Her armour was massive and iron which covered all her chest and legs but nothing of her arms. Her green arms which were covered in a thin coat of black hair were completely bare. She looked like a warrior. Even her head which was bald except for a taut high pony tail which hung from the back of her head.

Behind her the two companions were almost similar in appearance but Roman could see where their genetics differed. The two orcs behind her were like Dean on a bad day. They hunched. They hunched like the Bell Ringer of Notre Dame and their armour was not quite as polished as her own. Whereas she looked like a warrior they looked like armours. Their armour was iron around the chest but their greaves and gloves were fur. Fur like Anvil's men had worn. Their arms were also bare which most probably allowed more freedom to swing big heavy objects. They looked less knowledgeable. Primitive even. They were also bald but across their face were red markings like the American Indians painted on during war time. Axes in hands, Roman did not fancy messing with them either.

Roman raised his hands to his chest height. "We don't want no trouble. We're on our way to a city to deliver a message."

The female orc threw her head back and snorted. The two barbarians behind her grinned exposing their fang like teeth. Roman slunk back between his teammates. The sword on his back felt heavy again and his fingers felt twitchy.

"You must not know these forests very well if you're on the way to a city, boy." The female orc lowered her hammer from above her head and to her side. She licked her thin green lips and smirked. Roman did not like the way she looked at them.

"We don't…." Seth countered nervously. "We don't have any money but once we deliver this message then you can have whatever payment we get."

The Orc's smile fell instantly and a look of bewilderment shaped her ugly features. She looked over her shoulder at the other two who wavered their ready for an order. She spat something furiously in another tongue and the two took notice immediately. The three members of The Shield looked between themselves curiously. The female Orc returned her gaze to them.

"You dress differently and your markings are unrecognisable." She pointed to Roman's tattoo. "What is this message?"

Roman looked to his friend's for assistance but he knew they did not have the answer. They had never opened the letter from Anvil and they had never asked. Whatever it was it could not have been too important. Why would you send complete strangers to complete a quest? Roman was about to reach into his back pocket but the Orc snapped,

"Hands where I can see them!" She tightened her hold on her weapon and raised it ever so slightly in a threatening manner. The two cronies behind her grunted and snarled like the wild wolves they had once encounters. Roman immediately put his hands back to where they were. The orc nodded at Dean. "He's going to turn around and you are going to grab whatever he was going to grab."

Considering only five minutes the Orcs had planned on battering their heads in it had Roman thinking. What had she said to them and why was she so curious? Was it their clothes and his tattoo? Roman creased his brow. It made no sense. He turned so his side faced the Orcs and Dean stood directly behind him. Dean reached into the back pocket and pulled out the parchment.

"It's dry…" Roman heard Dean mutter. Dry? The rain continued to fall and although it was not as heavy as it had been through the night it was still classed as a shower. He wanted to turn and ask Dean to clarify but dared not to. The Orc was twitchy and her companions looked hungry for blood.

"Open it and read it out to me." The Orc demanded. She stepped from one foot to the other but her eyes remained transfixed on Roman's back. On the Great sword he had stolen from the warrior. The Orcs growled low in their throats. They too were looking at the sword.

Dean looked down at the scroll in his hands and then back up at the Orc. She did not look the patient sort. He wasted no time. The thin piece of material was pulled from the parchment and thrown to the floor. His muddy fingers uncoiled the scroll.

It had happened so quickly. The colour drained from Dean's face and his eyes suddenly became as wide as saucers. He opened his mouth as if to speak but a strained choked sound spluttered expelling saliva onto the open parchment in his hands. A thin veil of sweat shaped his features.

"Dean!" Seth yelled. He wasted no time moving to his friend's side just as Dean lost the power in his legs and dropped to his knees. Roman spun so he faced the Orcs and without a second thought he used both hands and pulled the Great sword free from its harness. The three Orcs raised their weapons simultaneously ready to strike. Roman remained still. His sword clenched tightly in both hands and raised ready at his chest.

Dean spluttered a few more times into the ground he faced and then he stopped. He looked up at the Orcs and then at Seth who knelt by his side. He blinked. Confused, he pushed himself back on his heels and sat in the mud. An awkward smile framed his face.

"Dean? Are you alright, man"? Asked Seth.

Dean looked fine. His face was no longer covered in perspiration and the colour he had lost was suddenly back in his cheeks and as rosy as ever. The scroll in his hands was dirty and soaked from his fingers and the rain. He held it up.

"Must have been an allergic reaction to that stuff the elves gave me yesterday." Dean said. He waved the parchment at Roman for him to take. Roman hesitated at first but then took it. He glanced at the damage paper. It said nothing. The page was blank.

"The message is blank." Roman said uneasily. "What happened to him?"

The female Orc shot a furious look at her companions and said something neither member of the Shield understood. It was angry but long-winded. They watched as the male Orc's expressions changed from angry, to neutral and then down right confused. She then returned to The Shield.

"What city do you want?"

Seth stood up slowly from the floor. Dean did not follow. "Palgrave."

The Orc nodded. She lowered her hammer to the floor but held it up straight via its handle. The other two stepped around her so they stood at her side.

"Drop your weapons and surrender. Everything you carry will belong to us and for your willingness to cooperate: we will spare you miserable lives."

Roman grimaced. He did not know what to say but something inside of him told him this was a mistake. They were bandits or at least that was what he had figured at first. Three angry looking brutes in the woods demanding money and threatening with violence: they were thieves and yet their actions confused him.

"What happened to our friend?" Seth demanded as his anger got the better of him. The Orc narrowed her yellow eyes at him.

"Drop your knife before I bash your brains in." She threatened.

"You were going to do that anyway! Why has it suddenly changed?!" Seth pulled his dagger free. "I want some answers. What the hell happened?"

"Seth…" Seth froze. Dean stood up from the floor and placed a mucky hand upon his friend's shoulder. His voice matched his face: serene. It scared him further. "I'm fine. I just became overwhelmed."

Roman's mouth twisted into a bizarre grimace. "Dean…. You're not feeling yourself."

"I'm tired Roman." Dean pulled his sword out of its harness and dropped it to the floor.

Seth fingered the tip of his dagger thoughtfully then threw it to the ground. All eyes remained on Roman. No, not on Roman. His sword. With an air of despair Roman dropped his sword to the floor with a wet thud. Then they were grabbed from each side.

* * *

The morning had dawned and through the trees above them there was not a cloud in the sky. The rain had suddenly ceased and the humid temperature began to peak once again. Birds sang into the morning sky and other small creatures went about their day. Squirrels jumped from tree branch to tree branch and flies buzzed about irritatingly. It was a beautiful morning but not one either member of the Shield relished in.

They walked in a straight line off the path they had walked most of the night and into the western direction. Roman was the first in line following the male Orc that led him via the old rope he had looped around Roman's neck. The Orc had at least had the decency to push two fingers through to ensure it did not choke him but if he slowed down or the Orc felt like giving it a tug; the rope would tighten around his neck. That rope around his neck extended behind him, looping around Seth's and then Dean's like a long caterpillar of captives. Their hands had been bound behind their backs with similar rope but not before they had been stripped off their clothes except for their undergarments. They had been lucky in that regards.

Naked and humiliated Roman tested the rope that bound his wrists but to no avail. He glared at the female Orc who left the way. She carried his sword in both hands and had not stopped looking at it since they had left their spot ten minutes ago. Roman looked over his shoulder at the exhausted and miserable face of Seth. Their eyes met but before Roman could open his mouth to speak his head snapped forward when the Orc tugged sharply at his 'leash'. He coughed loudly and picked up his pace. The rope loosened and returned to normal.

"You never told me about your markings…" The female Orc piped up when she lifted her eyes from the sword. She turned her face at her captives. "I've never seen it before."

Roman grunted in quiet menace then shrugged his shoulders. The Orc smiled, slowed down her pace and walked alongside him. She looked at his tattoo carefully as if trying to place it. She shook her head softly before she looked up at Roman's face and then to Seth's.

"Your hair and markings also confuse me. Are you a practitioner?" When she got no reply she scowled. "When I ask you questions I expect answers."

"Lady, we're not in the mood for talking right now." Said Seth with so much authority it made Roman believe he might actually be free and armed for a second. But just a second. Her face scrunched up so much her exposed tooth pushed against her flattened nose.

"With an attitude like that it makes me wonder why I don't feed you to my brothers."

Seth smirked. "I did ask but you never answered."

"Because I'm a generous soul whose doing you a favour by taking you to Palgrave." She looked down at the sword. "Where did you get this?"

"Wait… you _are _taking us to Palgrave?" Seth narrowed his eyes. "Why? Why would you take us there?"

"Tell me where you got this sword from and I will answer your question." A thoughtful smile piqued her lips. "Or we play a game. I ask a question and you answer it. Then, you ask a question and I will answer it."

Seth tested the ropes behind his back. He did have plenty of time to kill.

"I'm good for that. You guys good for that?" He asked the other two members just to make sure they were okay with feeding her information.

"Sure…" Roman muttered with tense shoulders.

"Do I get a question?" Dean drawled. Seth blinked. Dean wanted a question? It only seemed fair and he probably had something profound to ask about his situation. Seth nodded his head in agreement but regretted it instantly when the rope tightened slightly. He winced.

"Sure Dean… you get a question."

The Orc smiled. "First question: Where did you get this sword?"

"We stole it from a hunter named Anvil a nights walk away." Seth answered simply.

She nodded her head. "Where did he-"

"That's not the rules." Roman grunted.

"Yeah lady, it's our turn and we have a whole load of questions to ask." Said Seth.

The Orc looked put out but nodded her head in coherence with the rules she had stipulated. She slowed her pace so she walked in line with the chubbier one of the three. A grin beamed across his face and his tired eyes stared into her. Instinctively, she tightened her hold around the hilt of the great sword she had taken.

"So… you've threatened to kill me several times since I've known you and I still don't know your name."

She blinked. "That's your question?"

"That better not be your question!" Roman roared from the front of the queue.

Dean shrugged his shoulders innocently. "What's your name?"

"You would never be able to pronounce it with a tongue like yours."

"Try me," to prove a point as per usual his tongue fell from the corner of his mouth as he smiled at her. She looked surprised. She even blushed.

"You… you can call me by a more human name. My mother's name," she licked her lips. "Jastia. Now, where did he get the sword from?"

Dean shrugged. "He never said. So, your mother had a human name and you're half and half so I'm assuming mummy dated a big green brute?"

"Dean!" Seth exclaimed. He struggled with his bonds more aggressively now which only served to tighten the rope around his neck and choke his speech.

"My mother was raped by my father. My father kept her and I was raised by both. My kind are not uncommon… half-orcs wander most towns but are met with scorn and detest." Her jaw jutted and her voice changed from its original casual tone. "Weak dumb creatures that they are endure it."

Dean tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. "Explains your English."

"My what?"

"Language. Your human tongue or whatever you call it." He shrugged his shoulders. "You asked a question so I get another. Do you hate your father for doing that to your mother?"

"Dean!" Roman roared again.

"No. My father requires pleasure and takes it as required." She raised the sword. "Do you know anything about this sword?"

"No. Do they take what they want from you?

"No. What magic does your friend dabble in to colour his hair?"

"L'Oreal. Why don't they rape you?"

She gritted her teeth. "Because I am a warrior! Enough of this game because I grow tired of it! You know nothing of this sword!" She stomped forward past Seth and Roman until she reached the front. She said something in her other 'tongue' to her brother. He replied. Grunting and snarling. They picked up the pace.

"Ambrose… you are damn lucky I can't get my fucking arms free!" Roman growled loud enough for the entire line to hear.

"You wasted our questions," said an empty sounding Seth.

Dean smiled. Somehow he imagined they would get over it.


End file.
